In the endless, unexplored ocean, every eye was locked on the sonar readout—the only device they could rely on right now.
All eleven submarines had shut off their searchlights on Charles' orders; even the glass curtains were drawn tight.
He knew exactly what was lurking beneath those tubes, and what would happen if anyone looked at it. Under these conditions, human sight was more a liability than an advantage.
Inside the Narwhal's cockpit, the first mate, Second Officer, Captain, and Helmsman had all gathered. No one spoke. Aside from the hum of the instruments, the only sound was their collective breathing.
The tension inside the cabin was suffocating—even Nico, who usually couldn't resist making dirty jokes, had lost all interest.
"Reporting as scheduled at 18:00. The Maiden's Love: all normal."
"Reporting as scheduled at 18:00. Scorpion Tail: all normal."........
